


Starting Over

by Smilerlib



Category: Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:29:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smilerlib/pseuds/Smilerlib
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Reader, Henry Cavill/You
Kudos: 14





	Starting Over

So you’re wondering if you’re doing the right thing. It’s not the first time you’ve had this thought, but now reality is starting to hit and it’s given you a first class headache. The doubts swirling round your head are louder than ever and you can’t shut them out. You have to face it; you’ve quit your safe, boring job as a librarian. For what exactly? To start over in a new profession.

Ever since you’ve graduated, you’ve wanted to work in television or movies. No that’s not right; since your first time staring up at the silver screen, hypnotised by heroes and villians, princes and princesses, you’ve wanted to be a part of that magic. But the problem is, they said it couldn’t happen. And you listened and believed them. Of course there was your family and boyfriend to think about too. But here you are at 40, beginning again. Everyone thinks you’re either crazy or having a mid-life crisis; you must be to leave everything behind for a dream. Sitting here in this strange room in a strange country, in the middle of a pandemic, you’re starting to think they’re right.

You’ve only been here half an hour and regret has wound into a tight ball in the pit of your stomach. This is not as glamorous or exciting as you hoped. When you were dropped off in front of the house, you were so convinced you’d made a huge mistake, you almost ran after the taxi. In fact, you would’ve done if some nosey neighbour on the other side of the street hadn’t been watching you. Your heart sank as you realised this was it.

Inside, there’s more disappointment as you inspect your room. It’s so small you couldn’t swing a cat and the smallest single bed possible is jammed in next to the narrow window. To make matters worse, the room looks out over a busy road. Every couple of minutes the walls seem to rattle as lorries and buses hurtle past. With a sigh, you empty the contents of your suitcase into the tiniest wardrobe you’ve ever seen and wonder what to do next. In the hope that your mood will lift after you’ve had a cup of tea, you go in search of the kitchen.

The kitchen seems palatial after the cramped dimensions of your room. Sleek, bright white cabinets line the walls and a large island fills the space. Big French windows look onto a cosy decked space outside. As your eyes take everything in, they come to settle on a man occupying the expanse of a large navy sofa in the corner of the room. He looks up, frowning as you move closer.

‘Er, hello,’ you say, conscious of how nervous you sound.

The man doesn’t get up to greet you, instead he just regards you over the script he’s reading. His blue eyes are red rimmed and tired, and dark curls fall across his forehead. There’s something familiar about him, but your tired brain can’t quite place him. Expecting a smile, or maybe a hello, you take another step and try to raise a smile. You’re not good with strangers, but if you’re going to be housemates with this guy, you’re going to have to make an effort. Not that he’s making it easy. He stares for a second, but deciding you’re not at all interesting, turns back to flick through the pages. Charming. Determined not to be unsettled by this, you try again.

‘I’m Y/F/N, Y/L/N,’ you introduce yourself, your voice maybe an octave too high.

You have never felt so embarrassed in your life; he’s completely ignoring you. You may as well not exist. While you curl your growing anger into your fists, your stomach growls with hunger. Not wanting to linger and endure any more humiliation, you quickly make a coffee and head back to your room.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, angrily chewing on a half eaten cereal bar you found in the bottom of your bag, doubt grips you. Have you done the right thing? Here you are in a house with a mute stranger and a room the size of a cupboard. You know you could leave right now and go back to working all day in a poky office, listening to the office gossips and going home to inadequate sex with your boyfriend. Or you could stick it out in the hope that you’ll meet some more interesting people once you start work. You can’t quite face traipsing back home to face the inevitable ‘I told you so’s’, but you’re not sure if you can face weeks living with that man either. These thoughts swim round your head as you let the exhaustion of a long day overwhelm you. Before you can decide what to do, your head hits the pillow.

  
  


‘And he said nothing at all?

You shrug as you tell Nina, another production assistant, about your encounter the night before.

‘It doesn’t sound like Henry, he’s usually very friendly,’ she smiles, finishing a last mouthful of toast. ‘Though I don’t think he’s happy about the living arrangements.’

You almost choke on your bagel. Henry? Not Henry Cavill. No, it couldn’t be.

‘Oh?’ you say hoping she’ll spill more.

‘Well,’ she begins, leaning closer. ‘I think he just likes his own space.’

She rolls her eyes and you can’t help but laugh. Already you feel more relaxed and hopeful, as if telling someone has lifted the weight of worry from your shoulders.

‘So having to share.. last year he had a whole luxury pad to himself. But y’know, there were cutbacks because of the lockdown and all that...and because you were hired last minute, there was nowhere else for you to stay. Anyway, we’re lucky we’re still here,’ she says as she downs the last dregs of her coffee.

You don’t quite know what to think about this, but there’s no time to dwell on it as you head off to start your first day on set.

  
  


You’re so busy you soon forget about the night before. Everyone is friendly and though you don’t have time to stop and take it all in, it’s a good first day. By the end of it you feel like you’re finding your feet. It’s late when you get home, so you stumble straight up to your room. Tired as you are, the excitement has left you so wired you can’t sleep. Deciding it’s better to get up and do something, you slip downstairs. Curled up on the massive sofa in the kitchen, you check your messages and emails.

After half an hour of scrolling through Instagram, catching up with everyone’s lives, you wonder what time it is in England and decide it’s too late to text your friends. Still wide awake, you think a milky drink might help, so start hunting through the cupboards for provisions. On tiptoes, you stretch to grab a mug that’s just a little out of reach. About to give up and head back to bed, you sense someone come up behind you. In the small space between your bodies, you squirm round until you’re facing the intruder. This time you recognise him immediately; Henry Cavill. He’s so close you can feel his warm breath on your face, see the stubble peppering his jawline. With silent ease, he reaches up for a mug, handing it to you.

‘There you go, shortie.’ he smirks down at you.

_Shortie? What the?_ You scowl at him but the grin remains. His eyes glow in the dim amber light, brightening any lingering tiredness. His close proximity makes your face flush with heat, and your heart races a marathon as you take the mug from him.

Now it’s your turn to be lost for words. You’re too aware you’re wearing the shortest nightdress imaginable in this situation, so you tug it down but it can’t cover your embarrassment. You stay motionless, not because he’s got you trapped, but because he’s so damn mesmerising. You study his face intently, looking for you don't know what. This man is a mystery, mute one day then ready to help you the next. He stares back, azure blue eyes taking in every inch of you, forehead crinkled as if he can’t make up his mind what to do or say. You stand like this for what seems like hours until his voice releases you.

‘Do you usually go wandering round a stranger’s house at night?’ he asks, eyebrow arched inquisitively.

All you can do is shake your head. It’s as if all the letters of the alphabet have fallen out of your brain. His full lips curve into a wide smile, his broad shoulders dropping a little.

‘Mmmm,’ he mutters, the growl coming from deep in his chest.

‘Well, enjoy your drink Y/N,’ he winks as he leaves the room.

You sag back against the kitchen worktop, not quite sure what just happened. Whatever that was, there’s no way you’re going to sleep tonight.

  
  



End file.
